was off to do him a kindness, it was only fair that he return the favor. Crockett retrieved the hoe and collected the cabbage on his way through the gate. He was halfway to the house, thinking to set the cabbage inside the kitchen door, when a brown blur thundered past him.
Joanna Robbins tore out of the barn astride a magnificent chestnut quarter horse. She leaned forward in the saddle, hat flopping against her back, hair streaming out behind her in a wild, curly mass as she urged her mount to a full-out gallop. Unable to do anything but stare, Crockett stood dumbstruck as she raced past.
She was the most amazing horsewoman he’d ever seen.
Joanna Robbins. The shy creature who claimed painting and reading were her favorite pastimes had just bolted across the yard like a seasoned jockey atop a Thoroughbred. She might have inherited her mother’s grace and manner, but the woman rode like her outlaw father. Maybe better.
13
S weat dripped down Silas’s neck as he set his hatchet aside and signaled to Jasper. “Ease ’er back slow.”
“You got it, boss.” Jasper nudged his mount forward, and the rope that tethered the gelding to the fallen tree stretched taut.
Carl had discovered the deadfall on his rounds that morning. One of the post oaks had collapsed into the fence. Probably fell victim to the high winds they’d had last week. They’d been hacking at the branches the past half hour, trying to free it from the barbed wire so they could drag it away without taking half the fence line with it.
“Whoa!” Frank called out from the opposite side. “She’s catchin’ on my end.” He groaned heavily as he forced his way past the outer branches to reach the spot where it had snared. “Confounded limbs, stabbin’ a man like he was some female’s pincushion,” he grumbled as he strained forward. “I oughta just set ya on fire and let you burn your way free. Then I’d take my shovel and poke ya ’til there was nothin’ left but ashes. Wouldn’t be stabbin’ me then, would ya?”
Silas rolled his eyes and reached for his bandana. After beingpartnered with the man for over twenty-five years, he knew better than to interrupt Frank during one of his rants. Not if he wanted to get the job done before sunset. So he held his tongue and swiped the bandana along the back of his neck, rubbing away his perspiration. He twisted his neck to the side to work out a kink, and caught sight of his daughter riding toward them as if a hangin’ posse were in pursuit.
“Jo!” His gun clearing leather in an instant, Silas sprinted away from the tangled branches, planted his gloved palm against the rounded trunk, and vaulted over the tree that stood between him and his daughter. As he ran to meet her, his eyes scoured the landscape in search of whatever threatened her, but he saw nothing.
He held up his arms to slow the racing horse, but Joanna had the beast well under control. In a flash, she reined in the horse and bounded off its back.
“Daddy! I have the most wonderful news!” She jogged up to him and flung herself into his arms like she used to do when she was just a little bit of a thing. He caught her against his chest, and the laughter that bubbled out from her calmed his thundering pulse.
He embraced her tightly, a father’s tenderness momentarily overriding his common sense. Then he shoved his weapon back into his holster and took her by her upper arms, setting her away from him as he schooled his face into a stern line.
“You scared a year off my life, ridin’ in here like that. I thought fer sure a pack of coyotes must be on your heels.”
“Sorry, Daddy.” Her smile dimmed slightly, but not enough to count. The little scamp wasn’t the slightest bit sorry. “I promise not to go over a trot on the way home. And I’ll give Gamble a thorough rubdown when we get there. I swear. I was just too excited to hold him back, and you know how he loves to run.”
Of course he did. He’d handpicked the
Joanna Robbins tore out of the barn astride a magnificent chestnut quarter horse. She leaned forward in the saddle, hat flopping against her back, hair streaming out behind her in a wild, curly mass as she urged her mount to a full-out gallop. Unable to do anything but stare, Crockett stood dumbstruck as she raced past.
She was the most amazing horsewoman he’d ever seen.
Joanna Robbins. The shy creature who claimed painting and reading were her favorite pastimes had just bolted across the yard like a seasoned jockey atop a Thoroughbred. She might have inherited her mother’s grace and manner, but the woman rode like her outlaw father. Maybe better.
13
S weat dripped down Silas’s neck as he set his hatchet aside and signaled to Jasper. “Ease ’er back slow.”
“You got it, boss.” Jasper nudged his mount forward, and the rope that tethered the gelding to the fallen tree stretched taut.
Carl had discovered the deadfall on his rounds that morning. One of the post oaks had collapsed into the fence. Probably fell victim to the high winds they’d had last week. They’d been hacking at the branches the past half hour, trying to free it from the barbed wire so they could drag it away without taking half the fence line with it.
“Whoa!” Frank called out from the opposite side. “She’s catchin’ on my end.” He groaned heavily as he forced his way past the outer branches to reach the spot where it had snared. “Confounded limbs, stabbin’ a man like he was some female’s pincushion,” he grumbled as he strained forward. “I oughta just set ya on fire and let you burn your way free. Then I’d take my shovel and poke ya ’til there was nothin’ left but ashes. Wouldn’t be stabbin’ me then, would ya?”
Silas rolled his eyes and reached for his bandana. After beingpartnered with the man for over twenty-five years, he knew better than to interrupt Frank during one of his rants. Not if he wanted to get the job done before sunset. So he held his tongue and swiped the bandana along the back of his neck, rubbing away his perspiration. He twisted his neck to the side to work out a kink, and caught sight of his daughter riding toward them as if a hangin’ posse were in pursuit.
“Jo!” His gun clearing leather in an instant, Silas sprinted away from the tangled branches, planted his gloved palm against the rounded trunk, and vaulted over the tree that stood between him and his daughter. As he ran to meet her, his eyes scoured the landscape in search of whatever threatened her, but he saw nothing.
He held up his arms to slow the racing horse, but Joanna had the beast well under control. In a flash, she reined in the horse and bounded off its back.
“Daddy! I have the most wonderful news!” She jogged up to him and flung herself into his arms like she used to do when she was just a little bit of a thing. He caught her against his chest, and the laughter that bubbled out from her calmed his thundering pulse.
He embraced her tightly, a father’s tenderness momentarily overriding his common sense. Then he shoved his weapon back into his holster and took her by her upper arms, setting her away from him as he schooled his face into a stern line.
“You scared a year off my life, ridin’ in here like that. I thought fer sure a pack of coyotes must be on your heels.”
“Sorry, Daddy.” Her smile dimmed slightly, but not enough to count. The little scamp wasn’t the slightest bit sorry. “I promise not to go over a trot on the way home. And I’ll give Gamble a thorough rubdown when we get there. I swear. I was just too excited to hold him back, and you know how he loves to run.”
Of course he did. He’d handpicked the
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